


Talk About the Weather

by Sophia_Bee



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 17:58:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2397575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Bee/pseuds/Sophia_Bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Veronica has always been afraid of thunderstorms</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk About the Weather

“I’m scared.”

Veronica huddled under the table in the kitchen. It was a heavy oak table she and her dad had picked up for ten bucks at a garage sale down the street. The top was scarred, covered with nicks and coffee rings. On special occasions she’d pull out the old blue table cloth dad said belonged to her grandmother and throw it over the table and it would become pretty enough for a feast.

“Its just thunder, honey.”

Her dad’s face peered under the edge of the table, his brow knit with concern for the pair of blue eyes that stared back at him. A loud clap sounded outside and the air shook with electricity. Veronica jumped and scurried further under the table, feeling the cool wall press against her aback.

“This will make you feel better. I promise….”

Keith’s hand reached toward her and Veronica saw that it was gripping a mug. Hot chocolate. Her favorite. She let out a sigh and felt the fear start to slip away.

Everything would be okay.

Her dad spent the rest of the storm crouched under the table, his head bumping up against its rough underside. He pulled out a pack of cards and they played Go Fish and Old Maid. Veronica felt safe, hidden under that protective barrier of wood, far way from the noise and light of the storm, her dad by her side.

Her mother was passed out on the couch.

Twelve years later. Not much scared Veronica Mars anymore. Not even thunder and lightening. She stared out at the black and grey sky filled with angry clouds hanging low over the landscape, threatening to dump rain all over the dusty, warm streets of Neptune.

She could smell it, the dry, acrid smell of a spring storm filled her nostrils, the hair on the back of her neck prickled with electricity. She could almost smell the hot chocolate and the spicy scent of old oak. If she closed her eyes she could pretend she was back there, huddled under the table, she could pretend she was safe.

Veronica stood on the steps, her feet balancing on the edge, teetering back and forth as she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered in the still warm night. She stood on the steps, daring the storm to come, daring it to try to scare her again. From behind her music blared through the open doors of the gym, some sappy sweet love song from the pop flavor of the moment. A mirrored ball rotated on the ceiling throwing sparkles of light around the room as the crepe paper decorations turned the cavernous room into a teenage dance paradise worthy of the final scene of a formulaic teen movie, complete with an happy ending. Boys and girls swayed together, pressed against each other, sweaty hands grasping for purchase, sweet perfumes mixing with the scent of vodka, dreams of magical kisses and going all the way hanging in the air.

She’d known it the moment she’d grabbed his hand and walked toward the dance floor. She’d known it the moment she’d wrapped her arms around his neck and watched a quick flicker of something go through his eyes.

It was a mistake of gigantic proportions.

When the song was over she’d dropped her hands to her side. He smiled a little, stuttered something she didn’t understand. She smiled too, because it was the only thing she could think to do, standing there as awkwardness crackled between them. He was about to say something she didn’t want to hear when she stammered that she had to go, had to walk the dog, had to pick up ice cream for her dad, had to do anything but stand there and stare into his eyes until all her defenses were destroyed.

Cinderella fled the ball, bursting into the cool Neptune night. She paused, paralyzed by what she’d just done.

She was fingering her car keys, jingling them in her pocket, when she heard a step behind her, a familiar slide across concrete and it was then that she realized that she’d been listening for it…for him.

“Veronica.”

His voice was raspy and she wondered why her name was so hard for him to say. He’s said it a million times, said it with mocking, angry undertones. Now it just sounds raw, ripped from somewhere deep inside.

She doesn’t turn, just stands there on the edge of the steps, staring out into the night sky.

“I used to hate thunderstorms.” She says quietly, hugging herself tightly, arms wrapped around her shoulders. “I used to run and hide in the closet, or under the table and my dad would have to find me.”

His fingers are touching her arm now, a feathery light touch that makes her shiver.

“I like them now.” Veronica manages as his fingers move to the column of her neck. “But my dad, he still makes me hot cocoa and sits with me. He still tries to make them better.”

His breath is hot against her ear now and he’s whispering something, or is it a moan, long and guttural as he pulls her back against him.

“I can never go back.”

She’s not sure if she’s still talking about the weather or something else. Her breath sucks in, a long intake of air that burns in her throat, fills her lungs until her chest hurts, but she can’t let it go.

“I’m scared.” Veronica whispers into the night air, to herself, to him, to no one. She feels it, the old feeling of fear, creeping up her limbs, tingling through her blood. It’s the same fear that would send her scurrying across the apartment, looking for refuge as the skies rumbled above.

Except that she wasn’t afraid of thunder anymore. This was something else. It was her. It was him. It was this moment, standing on the stairs outside the gym, stuck between wanting and longing, twisting in the lie that they’d both carefully constructed: the lie that they meant nothing to each other. She stood there, waiting for him to grip her shoulder, to pull her around and crush his lips to hers. Waiting for something that would tell her that this time he would never let her go.

The air was starting to cool, that sudden dip in temperature just before electricity slashed across the night sky, illuminating the clouds.

Crickets chirped.

Somewhere in the distance thunder crashed and Veronica felt that old familiar fear zip up her spine. She ignored it. She wasn’t afraid of thunderstorms anymore.

She stood there, waiting for him to whisper her name again, wanting to hear his voice rasp in her ear that he would never let her go, not this time. She stood there, her skin covered in goose bumps, trying hard not to shiver. She stood there, trying hard to keep her tears from spilling onto her cheeks.

She never heard him walk away.

fin


End file.
